


to touch another man's skin

by ineffablewifey



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bisexual Dean Winchester, Dead John Winchester, Dean Winchester Comes Out, Dean Winchester Deserves to be Happy, Dean Winchester Has Internalized Homophobia, Dean Winchester Has a Sexuality Crisis, Dean Winchester and Sam Winchester are Siblings, Dean meets his ex, Emotionally Repressed Dean Winchester, Guilty Dean Winchester, Happy Ending, Homophobic John Winchester, John Winchester Being an Asshole, M/M, New York City, Repressed Bisexual Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester Knows, Supportive Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:26:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28383195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ineffablewifey/pseuds/ineffablewifey
Summary: Sam and Dean are working a case in New York City. Dean gets confronted with the past and the guilt about his own emotions.
Comments: 10
Kudos: 33





	1. just another demon

**Author's Note:**

> The first chapter is the most boring one, I promise it will get more exciting.

It was just another demon, just like the one they had killed in Pennsylvania last week. At least that’s what Dean Winchester thought when he was sitting in the car with his little brother Sam on the way to New York to solve another case. Little did he know that what was waiting for him would change him forever.

  
“Get this,” Sam mumbled (he was eating a huge Cheeseburger). “All the suicides were people with happy, stable lives, good jobs and enough money.” “So what do you think made them kill themselves?” Dean asked. In the background Bon Jovi sang ‘Living on a prayer’.

“I don’t know, but it must have been something supernatural. I mean 18 people shot themselves in the heart in the last five days. That’s a lot, even for New York.”

“Why would you shoot yourself in the heart? That’s not exactly the easiest way.” Dean wondered. He had never heard of someone who did that.

“We’ll find out soon enough.” Sam said.

After another five hours of driving, they arrived in New York City. Yellow Cabs, people in crazy outfits and businessman who looked like there was going to be a market collapse any second passed them by as they were looking for the next best motel to get a room for the next couple of nights.

  
Dean would never admit it to anyone, but he really loved New York. He loved the tall buildings and the small side alleys and the little bars that felt like they could hold the entire world inside them. He loved the busy, colorful, rude but on occasion also very kind people. This city made him feel alive, and he came here whenever he had the chance to.

Sam on the other hand didn’t like New York that much. He thought it was too loud, too crowdy, too expensive and way too fast-paced. But looking at his brothers face he knew it was worth coming here. Every time they came here Deans face lit up with joy and excitement, and it was like he was a little boy again.

Something had been bothering Dean lately and Sam couldn’t really figure out what it was. It made him sad that he wouldn’t talk to his little brother but that’s just how Dean was. So Sammy had tried everything to make his brother happy, even if that included visiting the city that he hated the most. That was actually the only reason he agreed to take this job.

Finally, they found a hotel. It was skanky and the lobby smelled like fish and rotten eggs but at least it was cheap. Checking in, Dean was flirting shamelessly with the concierge. She handed him the keys to their room and smiled seductively. “Thank you Ma’am,” Dean said, softly biting his lip. Sam rolled his eyes. “Come on Casanova” he said and pushed Dean towards the evaluator. Why did he always have to be such a womanizer?

The room was very small, smelly and incredibly loud, just as Sam expected. He sighted and threw his bag on one of the two beds. “So,” Dean smiled and dropped himself on the other bed. So far it seemed like he was really enjoying his time here. “I don’t know about you, but I’m starving. Where do you want to grab lunch?”

After a delicious lunch in a small diner, that Sam found way to expensive, the brothers threw on a pair of suits and made their way to the house of the last suicide.

For the sake of completeness, it should be mentioned that they gave up on the impossible task of making it through the New Yorker traffic by car and just took the subway, which led to Sam losing his cellphone, Dean almost picking up a fight with a homeless man, a fine of $30 because they bought the wrong tickets and just general frustration.

Arriving at the suicides house they both immediately noticed a weird quietness that surrounded the street, a quietness that was more than unusual for this city. It was almost as if the whole neighborhood had suddenly gone quiet. There was a single police car standing in front of an apartment building and two policemen interviewing a man who was obviously very upset.

“Officer, I’m telling you it wasn’t suicide!” they heard him cry from across the streets.   
Sam and Dean shared a confused look and walked over to where the three people stood. 

One of the policemen saw them and his face lit up with relief. “Are you the guys from the pastoral care?”

“Yes, that’s us”, Dean answered quickly before his brother could say anything different. Originally their plan had been to arise as feds, but it would be much easier to get personal information as a shrink. “Oh, thank god” the cop sighted and rolled his eyes as he turned away from the man to get in his car.  
“Good luck with that sniveler” his co-worker said while raising his eyebrows at Sam and Dean.  
The two policemen laughed, got in their car and set off.

Finally, Sam and Dean got to have a good look at said sniveler. It was a tall man in his forties who looked like hadn’t slept in 5 days. His eyes were red and swollen, his blonde hair was greasy and his pale face unshaved. “Hello sir,” Sam smiled at him. “We are from the pastoral care, my name is Luke Wilson and this is my partner Rick Monto. We’re here to talk to you about your wife’s death.” The guy eyed them suspiciously then he faintly sighted. “I’m Johnny Downer. Come on upstairs.”

Contrary to his sleazy looks, Johnny Downer’s apartment was very clean and tidy. It was a typical Brooklyn apartment with big windows and colorful furniture.

“Do you guys want a tea or anything?” Downer asked absentminded.

“Uh, no, we’re good thank you, Mr. Downer. We would like to talk to about your wife’s death tho- if you’re alright with that.” Sam answered with a soft smile. The man sighted and gestured them to sit down on a huge couch that looked like it came right out of a designer collection.

“It happened 3 days ago. I came home from work early to spend the evening with Sarah-“

“Sarah is- was your wife’s name?” Dean interrupted him. His brother threw a look of reproach at him. “Yes, indeed.” Johnny Downer’s eyes filled with tears. “That was her name.”

“Please Mr. Downer continue.”

“Sarah said she was going to go grocery shopping. She was gone for maybe half an hour. When she came back her face was as white as the wall, and she was shaking. She kept talking about how- how she had killed someone. She kept saying how she was so ashamed of what she did.”

Sam frowned. “I told her to go upstairs and calm down while I put away the groceries. Then I heard a shot and- and-“ he broke out in tears.

“It’s alright Johnny.” Sam put his hand on the widower’s shoulder and handed him a tissue.

Dean had always wondered at how good his brother was at comforting people. It seemed so easy for him. Dean cleared his throat.

“Did your wife have reason to believe that she killed someone? Did someone close to her commit suicide or was she in a car crash or something like that?” “No, nothing. We were the happiest we had ever been. Sarah had recently found out that she was pregnant, and she was so excited. A baby had always been her biggest wish. She never would have killed herself, I’m sure about that.”

Sam crossed his legs and took a mental note. Dean asked: “Did your wife have any enemies that you know of?”

“Enemies? No, everyone loved Sarah. She was such a kind and caring person. She would have been the best mother the world has ever seen.”

Internally Dean rolled his eyes. When people died, their loved ones often tend to make them look perfect. They talk about them like they were saints who never did anything wrong. How would people talk about him when he died? No, he didn’t want to think about that right now. Focus, Dean, focus.

“Well Mr. Downer, if you ever feel like you need to talk anything, please call us.” Sam handed the man his calling card. “We are here to listen and help.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was the first chapter, I will update as soon as I can.


	2. micah

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean meets someone from his past and Sam is very confused.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is rather short, but it kinda shows where I'm planing to go with the story.

“That was smooth,” Dean acknowledged as they were leaving the apartment.  
It had begun to rain, and they could hear a faint rumble of thunder.  
Sam shook his head. “But the things this guy told us barely make sense. It could have been a normal suicide. Nothing about this makes sense. What do we do now?”  
“I’ll go check the autopsy reports, you go see what you can dig up online surrounding this house and family.” His older brother commanded. “I’ll call you if I find anything.”

And he did. Three hours later Sam’s phone rung and when he picked up, he heard his brothers voice. “Sammy you won’t believe this. Sarah Downer wasn’t pregnant when she died. In fact, she had a miscarriage a couple of days before. Where are you right now?” “I’m at this bar. It’s called ‘The Grey Club’. I was able to find out a lot about the other suicides,” Sam answered. “Okay, I’ll be there in five.”

Eight minutes later Dean walked through the door of said bar and looked across the room for his brother. It was a very comfy bar, with wooden tables and cushioned chairs and thick curtains. There were a couple groups of people in their twenties slouched on sofas in a corner, just laughing and chatting.

Dean spotted his brother at the bar. He was talking to another man whose face Dean couldn’t quite make out yet, but he recognized that the guy was wearing black skinny jeans and a white tank top.

He started to make his way through the crowded room towards them. When he got closer, he caught a glimpse of the face of the man that his brother was talking to.

Dean froze. It was like his feet decided to stop carrying him. He felt like something had hit him in the face.

He knew that face.

He knew that messy, brunette head of hair.

He knew those big, hazel eyes, he knew those freckles and god forbid, he knew those soft pink lips that bared to show snow-white teeth as the man laughed at something Sam said.

A name flashed through Dean’s head. A name and so many memories. Of course, he looked much older, but he would recognize Micah anywhere, even after all those years.

The man turned his head and Dean realized he had said the guy’s name out loud.

“Dean.” Micah smiled at him. Gosh, how much had missed that smile.

Sam glanced at his brother confusedly. He had taken off his leather jacket and was now only wearing a flannel and jeans. “Do you guys know each other?” “No!” Dean replied quickly. Possibly to quick because Sam eyed him even more suspicious than before.

Dean cleared his throat. “I mean yeah, kind of. We once went to high school together for a few weeks. We were…..buddies.”

Micah snorted. “Come on Dean, give me a little more credit.”

Dean ignored him and tried to change the subject. He felt himself getting overwhelmed with emotions, emotions that he had thought he had buried in himself years ago. If he didn’t talk about something else immediately, he knew he was going to break out in tears.

“How do YOU guys know each other, anyway?” he asked, hoping that his voice didn't give his feelings away.

“I met Micah here at the bar, and he saw my notes. We figured we are all working the same case, and he has got a hell lot more information than we do, Dean. I asked him if he wanted to join us-“

“You did what?”

“Dean I thought-“

“Sam there is a reason we don’t hunt with others, especially if we don’t know them!”

The taller man was baffled. Why was he so angry? Dean was never against working with other hunters. Also, what going on between his brother and Micah? When he had told the stranger that his name was Winchester, he could have sworn that he saw Micah flinch, but immediately put it off.

Dean seemed very nervous and when Sam looked closer, he noticed that his brother was biting the inside of his cheek. He only did that when he was extremely upset.

Micah just stood there watching the conversation between the brothers with an amused smile.

“Stop smiling like a fucking idiot!” Dean hissed at him. Sam’s jaw dropped, but Micah just let out a small chuckle.

“Still letting your daddy tell you what to feel huh?”

Dean stepped closer as if to start a quarrel. “Shut up.”

Anyone would have been intimidated by the looks he gave Micah, but the man didn’t move an inch.

“Really Dean, I thought you would have dealt with it by now.”

Micah stared straight into the eyes of the man standing before him, like they were having a staring contest. He didn’t seem scared at all.

“Like, I don’t know, gone to therapy or some shit. But it looks like you’re still the same you have always been.”

A warning growl escaped Dean’s lips.

“A little boy who is too scared to admit his feelings to himself or stand up to his daddy.”

Dean grabbed him by the scruff of his neck.

Alright, that was enough, people were already starting to stare at them. Sam pulled them apart.

“What the hell is going on here?”

No one answered his question.

“Dean, please talk to me!”

“Yeah, go ahead Dean, tell your brother what you did.”

“We’re leaving Sammy”

Dean stormed out of the bar.

“Please just wait here, I’ll calm him down. I don’t know what has gotten into him. We really need your help.” Sam said to Micah and grabbed his leather jacket.

Micah turned around on his chair so that he was facing the bar again and nodded. The strength that he had faced Dean with seemed to be completely gone. When Sam looked at him now, all he could see was a broken, hurt man.

That image of a man in so much pain kept replaying in his head when he ran out of the bar to find Dean.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading I hope you enjoyed it


	3. rooftop thoughts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year!!  
> There's not a lot of plot in this chapter, it's just Dean doing some thinking and a bit of backstory. Enjoy

Sam found Dean a block away from the bar he had stormed out a couple minutes earlier.  
His brother was sitting on the sidewalk between two yellow cabs and had his head buried in his hands. 

Seeing him like this hurt. Dean had always been there for Sam, hell, he was more of a father to him than John had ever been. Sam only wished Dean would let him be there for him.

Making his way through the passing people that didn’t even seem to notice the man sitting on the pavement Sam tried to think of what to say. 

Dean had never been good at talking about his emotions, Sam knew that way too well, and something about the man in the bar had obviously touched something very deeply in him.

“Hey,” Sam approached him softly, pretending not to see the way Dean quickly wiped his face when he noticed him.

“Hi,” Dean cleared his throat. “Um, sorry for overreacting earlier. I- I don’t know what got into me.”

“It’s okay. You don’t have to explain anything to me. It’s just, we really need this Micah-guy. Now, I don’t know what happened between you two, but we need to find out what’s behind these suicides or more innocent people will die. So if there’s any way you can work through this-“

Dean shook his head. “You’re right, Sammy. I was being a drama queen. Let’s get back to the hotel.” 

The fact that Dean’s mood had changed over the course of seconds confused Sam. 

When Dean tried to get up, his younger brother grabbed his arm and gave him a serious look.

“But Dean if there’s anything, and I mean ANYTHING, you want to talk about-I’m here.”

His brother grinned at him and Sam could feel that he was Dean I-like-beer-and-would-rather-die-of-hepatitis-talk-about-my-feelings Winchester again.

“What, you want us to sit on the sidewalk and talk about our feelings like we’re in some chick-flick? Come on, tell me what this Micah has that we don’t.”

Sam rolled his eyes and stood up. Yeah, he was definitely old Dean again.

\-----------------------

Dean rolled on his back and stared in the night dark of their hotel room. Sleeping seemed like an impossible task to him after what had happened today. 

He needed fresh air, he needed to get out. Luckily their hotel had a rooftop terrace, he remembered.

Dean got up and grabbed a black sweater and his room card as quiet as possible. He didn’t want to wake Sammy.

On tiptoes, he snuck out of the door and only dared to breathe out when he was standing in the barely lightened hotel hallway.  
The soft, dark red carpet damped his footsteps and Dean realized he had forgotten his shoes. He considered turning around and getting them but then decided against it. Shoes were overrated anyways.

The elevator made a soft ‘bling’. Dean stepped inside and pressed the button that said 22nd floor.

Then he turned around to look at himself in the mirrored walls. 

Sad, tired green eyes looked back at him. 

Dean turned his eyes away from the reflection. He couldn’t bear to look at himself.

Seeing Micah again today had shattered something in him.

No, no, no he couldn’t think about Micah right now. He needed to concentrate on the case. What had happened between them dated back years. 

But still- Dean remembered everything.

He still remembered the way Micah had looked when he slept next to him, his pink lips parted, breathing shallowly.

His downy light brown hair and that slight smell of vanilla shampoo that followed him everywhere.

The golden specks of light reflecting in his rich hazel eyes when he looked into the sun. How pretty his freckles had looked on his nose crinkled when he laughed.

His strangely melodic voice that sounded like music to Dean’s ears.

His warm, gracious hands that hadn’t been afraid to hold Dean, not even with people around.

Dean rested his burning head on the cool glass of the mirror and closed his eyes.

He hated that seeing Micah had thrown off track like that.

He hated the way that the other man had talked to him, and he hated that everything he had said was true.

He hated that Sammy had noticed that he wasn’t alright. Dean loathed being vulnerable in front of other people. It made him feel weak.

And now they had to work with Micah. At least he knew more about the case than the brothers. 

Apparently, all the victims went grocery shopping at the same store the day before they committed suicide.  
Sam had talked to Micah on the phone and made plans for the next day. They were all going to visit that shop and try to find out what was going on.

The elevator door opened with another dull ‘bling’ and Dean was hit by a blast of fresh, cold air that blew every thought away.

He stepped outside and found himself on a spacious rooftop terrace. In one corner were a couple of sunbeds lying upon each other. 

Dean walked forwards to the balustrade and looked down on the busy city beneath him.

From so far above the cars looked like little ants on a very colorful ant trail meandering between the skyscrapers.

Dean raised his head and looked at the pale crescent moon. He could feel the cold breeze on his face and on his hands as well as on his feet that were only covered by socks. 

Looking inside some windows across him Dean caught a glimpse of people doing normal people-stuff. Eating. Dancing. Doing the dishes. Talking.  
Perhaps that was the thing that Dean loved the most about New York. No one cared about each other, in the best way possible. This city made his feel like he could be whoever he wants.

Fuck, when did he become such a girl? Dean internally slapped himself across the face.

“Man up” a voice in his head whispered- a voice that sounded suspiciously like his dad.  
Dean suspired and considered jumping off the building he was standing on, just to get rid of his old man’s voice.

Since he was a little kid, he had always had his dad tell him to man up, to stop being such a girl, to take it like a man, to suck it all up.  
Now that John was dead this little voice inside his head told him all those things and Dean didn’t know what to do against it, so he just let it humiliate him, call him names and be mean.

John hadn't only been mean to his own son.  


Dean knew exactly what his father had thought of Micah, and why the young man had talked about him so poorly earlier today.  
John had always said that Micah was a fagot, that he wasn’t man enough to be a hunter and that he was going to get ripped into shreds the second he had to face a werewolf.

Apart from all the other stuff that had happened, that was enough reason for Micah to hate John Winchester. Dean didn’t blame him.

The sky above him started to look more gray than black and Dean realized that the sun was about to rise.  
“I better get back to bed” he murmured to himself, took one deep last breath of fresh air, and made his way across the rooftop towards the elevator.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so so much for reading and stay tuned for the next chapter. Maybe we will finally find out who Micah really is ;)


	4. greek goddesses and milk

Sam Winchester woke up from the sun tickling his nose. He sneezed softly, rubbed his eyes and sat up in bed.  
A yawn escaped his mouth. He didn’t get a lot of sleep last night.

When he had heard Dean sneak out, Sam had been worried and tried to stay awake until his brother had safely returned to their room. After a while he had fallen into a light sleep and not heard him return.

Where was he?

“Dean?” Sam called and heard his trembling, somnolent voice.

He breathed a sigh of relief when his brother stuck his head out of the small bathroom that was attached to their room, a toothbrush between his teeth.

Where were you last night?

The question was on the tip of his tongue, ready to fall out.  
But then Sam took a closer look at Dean’s face and spotted the dark shadows under his eyes and his slightly puffy face. It looked like – like he had been crying, Sam thought.

Dean rarely ever cried. His preferred coping mechanisms were getting drunk, killing every monster that crossed his way and bottling his emotions up until he nearly exploded. If Dean was crying, something was really going on. 

Was something about the man in the bar? Ever since they had met him, Dean had been so upset.

A suspicion started growing in Sam, a suspicion that he couldn’t shake off.   
He shouldn’t assume something like that about a person, Sam knew that, but he just had this gut feeling.  
“

Did you get some shut-eye?” the tall man asked getting up and shuffled towards the chair he had dropped his bag on, to get some fresh clothes.  
“Loads” Dean answered and spit out toothpaste. “I slept like a baby.”

Already a new T-shirt in his hands, Sam froze. Dean was lying to him. Dean never lied to him, unless it was it to protect him or if something was really wrong.

The older winchester stuck his head out of the bathroom once again and threw a confused at his little brother.  
“Are you okay, Sammy?” He must have noticed Sam’s weird quietness.  
“Uh, yeah I’m fine”  
Dean gave him a small smile. “That’s good.”  
It cost Sam everything he had to return the smile.

\--------------------  
15 minutes later the brothers were walking out the door of their hotel, now fully dressed and equipped with all kind of weapons they could possibly use to kill a goddess.

It was a goddess, Micah had been sure about that. 

More specifically the Greek goddess Aidos, the goddess of shame and disgrace. According to the myths, she had been Athena’s wet nurse.

“So, this chick that we’re trying to kill” Dean said and squinted his eyes at the bright October sun. “She’s just killing everyone she thinks is ashamed of something?”

“No” Sam let his look wander across the crowds of people were walking up and down the street they were standing on.  
“She picks out people who carry around a great shame, captures them and does god knows what to them. When she lets them go, they feel so much guilt and mortification that they kill themselves.”

Dean nodded.  
“And the wife of the guy that we talked to yesterday – Sarah Downer – had a bad conscience because she had a miscarriage and didn’t tell her husband because he was so excited.”  
“Exactly, and all the other victims had something similar going on. One broke up with his suicidal girlfriend, one cheated, the list goes on and on.”

A moment of silence arouse between them.

“If Micah figured out all of this alone, what does he need us for?” Dean wondered and hated the way his voice was trembling.  
“He said he didn’t want to go in there without backup.” Sam checked his phone. “Also, he should be here any second to pick us up.”

A nervousness hit Dean that he hadn’t felt before. He didn’t know how he was going to face Micah after everything that had happened the day before. 

What was he supposed to say? He wasn’t going to say anything, Dean decided in the next heartbeat. Ignoring it would make working together so much easier.  
But still, there was this voice inside Dean’s head that told him to tell the other man the plain truth.   
The truth about what had really happened on that fatal spring afternoon.   
The truth why he had left Micah standing with a bloody nose and tears streaming down his face and never called him ever again.   
Would Micah forgive him if he knew the truth?

He wanted to cry and spill all his pain out to the other man because he knew that he would understand. Maybe Micah was the only one who could ever understand.  
Dean shook his head and pushed those feelings down, like he had done so many times before.

Micah wouldn’t understand, Micah wouldn’t forgive, and he would just make a damn fool out of himself. Again.

His eyes filled with tears and Dean quickly turned away before Sam, who was typing something on his phone, saw it.  
Blinking the tears away, he studied his surroundings. They were standing in front of their hotel.  
Many, many people passed them by, some looking extremely stressed, some looking like they were having the time of their live. 

Dean saw a black man with headphones dancing down the street, moving and singing to whatever song he was listening to.  
A woman in a black coat dropped her coffee and started blustering so loud that other people turned their head.

A dog ran up to the brothers, sniffed at Sam’s pants, lifted his leg - and peed on his shoe.  
“Hey!” the tall man shouted and reached out to the animal who quickly disappeared into the crowd.

Sam gave Dean a strict look. “This is not funny.”   
Dean burst out into laughter. 

“That dog mistook you for a freaking lamp pole Sammy, of course that's funny!” he snorted with laughter.  
A grin spread across Sam’s face.

“I’m not even here and you’re already having fun. What cheek!” a familiar voice said jokingly. Dean felt his heart drop.

“Micah!” Sam called out and turned around. The two men shook hands and exchanged a few words of small talk.

The smaller man was wearing a dark green sweater over a white turtleneck and light blue, wide jeans. Over his shoulder hung a brown, old-looking backpack. His light brown hair was tousled and fell into his eyes.

When Micah’s eyes found Dean’s, his mouth curved into a smile and Dean couldn’t help but return it.  
“Hey” was all he said before turning back to the younger brother.  
Dean had a warm feeling inside his chest. Maybe after they were done with this case, he could have a chat with Micah. To sort things out. To make everything right.

\------------------

The walk to the grocery store was short. They crossed a few streets and walked down a very busy street until they finally turned in a more quiet side road.

On their way there Micah told them everything he knew about Aidos.   
Only pure gold could kill her.

Luckily the brothers had a knife that their father had left them, that was made of gold.   
Micah had also dug up some of his grandma’s gold jewelry that could potentially be used as a weapon. 

While they were walking, Sam couldn’t help but notice the glances that Micah threw at his brother.  
There were so many questions in his eyes and once again Sam wondered what had gone down between this man and his brother.  
He wasn’t stupid. He knew that Dean and Micah hadn’t just been “buddies” in high school.   
The way that they communicated, indicated a broken friendship or even love story.

Whatever it was, it clearly hadn’t ended well and caused them both a lot of pain.

Sam wanted to talk to his brother, but he knew that pressuring Dean into talking about his feelings would only make it worse.   
Maybe after this case Dean would be comfortable enough to tell Sam the truth.

“Here it is” Micah startled Sam out of his thoughts. They were standing in front of a 7/11 on a street corner. 

People were walking in and out of the shop with big carryout bags filled with groceries.

“Alright, let’s do this” Dean said with a fierce look on his face and pushed the door of the grocery store open.

A small bell rung, announcing their entrance. 

“So - what are we even looking for?” Sam asked.  
Micah was already a few steps ahead. “All the victims bought milk. I think we should check out that shelf.”  
“Good idea.”

They made their way towards the shelf where the dairy products were.

Sam grabbed one of the milk cartons. Nothing happened.  
“This looks like a perfectly normal grocery store to me” he pointed out.   
“What do you think Dean?”

No answer.

“Dean?” Sam turned around to look at his brother, but Dean was gone-and so was Micah.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got a bit lazy at the end, but I hope it's not too bad. I'll update soon!


	5. the basement of a freaking grocery store

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't really like this chapter but it's kind of the build-up for the next one, soooo you're gonna have to put up with it

Micah opened his eyes and saw nothing. 

He was staring into pitch black darkness. 

Taking a deep breath to calm himself down, he tried to make out his surroundings.   
His hands were tied together behind his back and he was sitting on a hard chair. 

Slowly, Micah’s eyes got used to the dark, and he recognized that he was sitting in a windowless room with a tall ceiling that was supported by huge, white columns. 

Between two of the columns across him, he spotted a figure. Its hands were in handcuffs that were attached to iron chains that were attached to the columns.   
The person had its head lowered and looked like they were unconscious. 

“Hey” Micah hissed.

The other person slowly lifted their head and Micah spotted bright green eyes in a dirty, bloodied face.

“Dean?”

Dean raised his eyes and blinked a few times before asking: “Micah? Where are we?” His voice sounded husky.

“I don’t know, I just woke up a couple minutes before you.”

Micah tried to remember what had happened before he had woken up. They had been at a grocery store, working a case, with Sam…

“Where’s Sam?” he asked in a lowered voice, just in case. 

Dean’s eyes wandered around the almost completely dark room and the chains rattled. Thanks to his hunter instincts he was fully awake now.

“The most important question is, why am I in those kinky-ass chains, and you get the cable tie?” he grunted.

Micah couldn’t help but smirk. Dean never lost his wit, not even in situations like this.  
And the way he practically hung there – his arms spread and his head low, with this focused, hard look in his eyes. 

He looked like Jesus without a cross, Micah thought and chuckled.

Dean threw him a piercing glance. “What’s so funny?”

“Oh, nothing” Micah shrugged. “It’s just – I always knew I would see you in cuffs one day, but I imagined them a bit more furry and a bit less gothic.”  
The other man turned his head to hide his face, but Micah could tell that he was blushing, which amused him.

Suddenly they heard loud footsteps approaching.  
Dean froze and Micah bit his lip, trying not to make any sound.   
They remained in that position, neither moving nor breathing while they listened to the footsteps coming closer.

The echo in the huge room made it almost impossible to locate the footsteps and so Micah got no heads-up for the muzzle of a gun being pressed to the back of his head. 

“Scream, and I’ll shoot” a familiar voice whispered.

“Sam?”

He felt the gun being pressed harder against his hair.

“How do you know my name?”

“Sam, it’s me, Micah. Dean’s here too.”  
Finally, Sam pulled the weapon away from the other man’s head and walked around the chair he was sitting on to get a good look at his face.

“It’s really you. Are you okay?” Sam asked and sighted relieved when Micah nodded.   
He pulled out a knife and cut through the cable wire that Micah’s hands were cuffed with. “Where’s Dean?”

Micah moved his numb fingers and pointed his head in the direction that Dean was standing. 

Sam quickly made his way across the room to his brother and hugged him.  
“Are you alright Dean?” 

“I’d hug you back Sammy, but it’s kind of hard with these babies on my arms.” 

Sam pulled back and started inspecting Dean’s handcuffs.

“You can’t crack them, they’re hexed. Man, have I ever mentioned that I hate witches?”

“Oh, but I am no witch, darling” a high-pitched, female voice giggled.

All three men’s heads jerked around. In front of them stood a tall, blonde woman with eyes that looked like sapphires. She was wearing a simple white tunica with golden ornamentation. 

“Aidos.” It wasn’t a question.

The woman turned her head to throw a puzzled look at Sam.

“What are you doing here? I didn’t take you.”  
“I came in through a back door behind the shelf where the bread was – also, what do you mean you didn’t take me? Why?”

Dean interrupted him. “Yeah, what the hell is going on here lady? Why are we in the basement of a freaking grocery store”

Aidos scoffed. “You don’t know? Really, Dean?”

Slowly, very slowly Micah reached for his pocket, the one he had stowed his grandma’s hair needles in.   
Hair needles wouldn’t kill her, but maybe they would hurt her, and hold her off long enough for them to escape.

Out of the corner of his eye Dean noticed what Micah was doing and kept talking to keep the goddesses’ attention on him.

“No, I have no idea what you are talking about. Why did you capture us? And while we’re on it, why did you only capture two of us?”

Aidos rolled her eyes and let out a small laugh. “Isn’t it obvious Dean? You know who I am, I am the goddess of shame.”  
“So? I’m not ashamed of anything.” Dean chuckled. “Except maybe that one time in middle school when I-“

“Baby, you reek of guilt and self-loathing. If I’m the goddess you’re at least the king of shame.”

Sam noticed a pained expression on his brother’s face. 

“I still have no idea what you mean” he said and plastered a fake smile on his face.

The golden hair pin tight in his right hand, Micah leaped up, but before he even reached Aidos, she snipped her fingers, and he was pushed back in the wooden chair.

“Nice try, but you see, I FEED off shame and guilt and I got an excellent meal right in front of me.”   
She winked at Dean.

“Weren’t you supposed to be good?” Sam asked. “Shame exists to show people what is right and what is wrong, and lead them on the right path.”  
Aidos looked bored.   
“Yes, yes, but over the centuries, humans have changed the lines between good and bad, moral and unmoral so much that I can’t keep track anymore. I just let people decide what they feel guilty of, and then feed off that. After that I have to make them kill themselves of course.”

“Can’t you just kill them yourself?”

“I mean I could, but it’s more likely to go unnoticed when it’s suicide. That’s why I was so surprised when I found out that you guys had taken on my lead. What gave it away?”

“The way that the victims committed” Dean grunted. His neck itched, and he wished he could scratch it.   
“Shooting yourself in the heart is a very weird way of dying. Why’d you do that?”

“Damn it” Aidos angelic face took on an atrocious look. “I thought it was a good metaphor, you know? They get so overwhelmed by their guilt that they only see one solution: killing the place the feelings come from – the heart.”

Sam frowned and argued: “Well technically emotions come from the brain, it’s just chemicals-“

“Quit being such a smartass Sammy, we have bigger problems right now” Dean said before his brother could elaborate further.   
He threw an angry at the goddess in front of him. “Again, why are you holding us here? What do you want from us?”

Aidos threw her head back and laughed out loud.   
Her hair fell across her back like a golden waterfall and her white teeth shone in the dim light.   
She was beautiful, in a painful way. 

“Oh, this is not about what I want Dean. It’s about what YOU want, but don’t allow yourself.”

Did she mean…..........she couldn’t.............…no, no surely it was about something else. Dean quickly brushed off the thought and sneered: “I have no idea what you’re talking about, miss.”

“I bet your friend here knows exactly what I mean.” She winked at Micah. 

The emphasis she put into the word ‘friend’ made both Dean and Micah flinch.   
Micah threw a side glance at the other man who was very obviously trying to not return the look.

Sam furrowed his brow and suddenly decided that he couldn’t take it anymore.   
“Okay, can somebody PLEASE tell me WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE!” he shouted, and his eyes moved back and forth between the goddess, his brother and his brother’s……….whatever-he-was.

“Go on Dean.” Aidos said with a cruel smile. “Tell your baby bro your big dark secret.”

Dean lowered his head. He couldn’t tell Sammy. He didn’t want to.   
“Sammy I can’t…”

He felt like his face was burning, and he had to throw up at the same time. It wasn’t an unfamiliar feeling.

Aidos smirked. “You know what Dean, I’ll make a deal for you. You you’re your brother and the other guy here-“ she gestured in Micah’s direction “-the truth about EVERYTHING, and I’ll let you go. That should make you feel enough guilt for me to be full. I let you go and you let me live. After you fulfill my conditions of course.”

Dean looked up and his gaze met her cruel light blue eyes. It felt like diving into ice cold water.   
All right, he thought. If you want to play, we’ll play.

“Deal.”


End file.
